


Happy Birthday, Dean Winchester!

by lokithegodofsass



Category: Doctor Who, Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-24
Updated: 2014-01-24
Packaged: 2018-01-09 20:41:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1150575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lokithegodofsass/pseuds/lokithegodofsass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean never makes a fuss over his birthday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Birthday, Dean Winchester!

Dean didn’t particularly care for birthdays.

Actually, that wasn’t quite right. He didn’t particularly care for his birthday. He always made sure that everyone he cared for got something for their birthdays from him. He just never made that a big deal out of his own. Usually he got whatever his family and close friends were able to scrounge up. In the past, he celebrated by finding a place that served good bacon cheeseburgers, buying himself dinner and pie, and picking up a woman for the night. But for obvious reasons (like having a male fiancé) he had to make different plans that didn’t involve frisky women.

“Dean, I’m home from the party!” Rory called as he shut the door behind him. A minute later, he was snuggled next to Dean on the couch.

“How was it?” Dean asked as he wrapped his arm around Rory’s waist.

“Great,” Rory grinned up at him.

“You seem to be in a good mood,” Dean commented.

“Birthdays are just… fun,” Rory smiled. Dean nodded his head and there was a minute of silence with Rory’s head nestled against Dean’s chest. “I probably should have asked this a long time ago, but when’s your birthday?”

“The 24th, why?”

“The 24th?” Rory repeated. “24th of what?”

“January.”

“Dean, that’s in two days,” Rory said slowly. “When were you planning on telling me this?”

“When you asked,” Dean shrugged. Rory gaped at him and Dean pecked his lips gently. “Don’t worry about it, okay? I’m just going to try to get the day off and relax.”

“I can’t believe you would wait until two days before your birthday to tell me about it,” Rory mumbled. “I can’t really put together something all that extravagant in two days, you know that right?”

“Please don’t,” Dean sighed. “All I want for my birthday is you.” Rory attempted to roll his eyes, but he couldn’t help but smile.

 

Dean hated shapeshifters. He hated the way that they shed their skin and left it in disgusting piles of goo on the ground. As if sewers weren’t gross enough in the first place. He hated that if he were to grab at their ear, it would fall off in his hands. He hated that one had gotten him charged for attempted murder and sent for jail more than once. But most of all, he hated that he had spent his birthday tracking one when he really wanted to spend a lazy with his fiancé.

However, he had finally picked up a trail. As he was creeping through a sewer, a handgun filled with silver bullets in one hand and a silver dagger in the other, he noticed something on the ground. The shifter, half morphed between a middle aged man and a blonde teenage girl, was lying dead on the ground.

“Huh,” he said as he flipped it over with his gun before widening his eyes in shock. The shifter’s eyes were burned in the socket. He only knew of one person who would do that. “Castiel, I pray to thee to get thy feathery ass here, pronto.”

“Hello, Dean.” Castiel’s nose was inches from his and Dean rubbed a hand across his brow.

“Cas, do we really have to talk about this again?” Dean mumbled.

“My apologies,” Castiel backed away to an arm’s length distance and Dean gave him a slight smile. “What seems to be the problem?”

“Could it be that your breath smells like peanut butter?” Dean asked. “Oh wait, why is the shifter that I’ve been tracking all day lying dead with his eyes burned out? Do you know anything about this?”

“Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches were one of my favorite foods when-“

“Cas, I don’t care about PB&J’s,” Dean sighed.

“Well,” Castiel said with the closest thing Dean had ever seen him do to a shrug, “you asked.” Dean gave him a pointed look. “Sam told me that you were tracking this shifter, so I found him and killed him for you.”

“How long has he been dead?” Dean asked.

“What time is it?” Castiel asked.

“4:06,” Dean said as he flipped open his phone.

“So five hours and twenty six minutes,” Castiel stated. Dean narrowed his eyes in exasperation and Castiel tilted his head. “Did I do something wrong? Did you want to kill the shifter yourself?”

“I spent all day…” Dean broke off because this was Cas. He was just trying to be helpful. He sighed and gave Castiel a smile that didn’t seem to look like he was promising to kill the angel in his sleep. “Next time, tell me if you kill something I’m hunting.”

“That makes sense,” Castiel nodded. “Would you like for me to take you home?”

“That would be great, thanks,” Dean said as the sewer quickly transformed into his front yard. Castiel was gone and Dean walked up to the front porch and opened the door to find that it was pitch black. Weird. “Rory, I’m sorry. I got caught tracking a shifter all day and-“

“SURPRISE!” He heard shouts all around the room as he raised his gun. “Dean, don’t shoot! It’s me!” Dean lowered his gun slowly and recognized his husband once his eyes quickly adjusted to the sudden light.

“Damn it, don’t do that,” Dean sighed, rubbing his head.

“Do what?” Rory asked. He was clearly annoyed. “Throw together a surprise party for you in two days?”

It was then that Dean realized that Rory wasn’t the only one in the room. He saw all of the kids, the neighbor boy Peter Parker (whom he was pretty sure was only invited to keep Primmy company), Prim’s mother Mae, Sam, and Castiel.

“Is this why you couldn’t help me with the shifter?” Dean asked Sam.

“Cas and I found the shifter this morning,” Sam confessed. “He killed it and we cleared up the trail to keep you busy for the day.”

“Not bad,” Dean nodded. “I was on a wild goose chase all day.”

“I’ve never been to a birthday party,” Castiel said. “But when will the talking cease and the party commence?”

“Is that your way of saying ‘Shut up and let’s party’?” Primmy asked with a hopeful smile as she flipped on the stereo and started dancing with Peter to a Metallica song.

 

After stuffing their faces with birthday pie, sending the kids to bed, and watching Peter and Mae walk to the house next door, Dean, Sam, Castiel, and Rory decided to have an old fashion drinking contest.

Rory was out first. After he had switched from giggly to tearful and clingy, Dean had made the decision to cut him off. He didn’t consult with the others, but he was sure from the confused look Castiel was giving him that it would have been a unanimous vote.

Next was Sam. Dean had forgotten how bitchy his brother could be when he was drunk. After one too many comments about Lisa that Dean hoped Rory wouldn’t remember in the morning, Dean just stopped pouring for him.

He knew he was piss drunk and that Castiel could probably go on forever without getting the slightest bit tipsy and. He should give up before he got alcohol poisoning. Maybe it was just the copious amounts of alcohol in his system (really, he hadn’t gotten that drunk since before meeting Rory) but this was the best birthday in his life. It could have quite possibly been the best night of his life.


End file.
